


The Time When Fear Was Beaten by The Thing With Feathers

by PeppermintOrange



Series: A Load So Heavy [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick Grayson-centric, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Damian Wayne, Medical Inaccuracies, Not Beta Read, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintOrange/pseuds/PeppermintOrange
Summary: Months have passed since Bruce's death. All that's left for Dick is Batman, his grief, and a child.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: A Load So Heavy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844761
Comments: 3
Kudos: 148





	The Time When Fear Was Beaten by The Thing With Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> “Hope” is the thing with feathers -  
> That perches in the soul -  
> And sings the tune without the words -  
> And never stops - at all -"
> 
> Emily Dickinson

Dick was at the end of his rope. Well, he wasn't even sure if there was much of a rope, to begin with. 

Months had passed. Months of pain and tears, hiding behind a mask that didn’t fit quite right, and a tug of war for respect from a feral child that he felt like he was losing a battle with. He was worn and torn and felt stretched thin in ways he should have never been. 

Dick could only breathe out with practiced control, holding the tension in his heart tightly and keep it together. It was more than just about him now. People depended on him differently. He had a mantle, a public facade, a kid-

Dick choked, pushing himself up in bed, the sheets drifting down over his legs. He threw the material back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Dick deliberately tried to control his breathing, reaching for the lamplight by his bed. He pulled the string on it, letting light illuminate a small part of his dim room. 

He needed a drink of water.

He dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the sticky sweat on his neck and bare chest and the way his heart jumped out of rhythm. The floor was cold against his feet, bringing a numbing comfort to his unsteady body. It felt like the only solid thing he could stand on, the only thing he could rely on. 

The lights were off in the hallway, and Dick forwent turning them on. There was just enough light coming from the city lights outside the windows to see his way to the kitchen. Both Alfred and Damian were light sleepers and Dick didn’t have the patience or energy to deal with either of them waking up due to the hall light. Damian shouldn't be up anyway. After a rough encounter with Scarecrow's fear toxin that night, the kid was more than exhausted.

He filled a glass of tepid water from the kitchen sink and stubbornly looked away from how his hand shook holding the glass. He sipped slowly and sat down at the counter, waiting for calm to come back over him.

As it always did, Dick’s heart stopped racing after a few minutes sitting down and his chest was no longer tight after he finished the glass of water. Calm enough to get back to bed, Dick dropped his glass off in the sink and walked his way back to his room. He climbed back into bed and pulled the sheets back over himself, wishing for sleep to come again.

It was just about when he was about to fall back asleep, the light brought him back to reality. Dick blinked in confusion. The sun couldn’t be up yet. Dick looked at the digital clock beside his bed glaring red numbers at him. 

_ 1:33 _ .

Dick looked around, letting his awareness come back to him. He noticed the light seeping into his room was coming from the hall and his door was opened fully. A small shadow stretched out across his floor, coming from Damian who was standing frightfully still in his doorway. Dick felt the hairs on his neck stand up.  _ Was the kid watching him sleep? _

Dick pushed himself up on his arms urgently. “Damian? What’s going on?”

Damian was silent, standing stock-still in the doorway. He looked tense and drained, the light of the hall bringing out the pallor of his face. There was no sneer or rude remark, only silence.

Something was wrong.

“Damian?” Dick threw his covers back for the second time that night and pushed himself to a sitting position. 

“I-” Damian swayed slightly. He swallowed with visible difficulty. His face suddenly went completely blank and withdrawn. “I vomited in my bed.”

Dick blinked, not expecting something so blunt. 

"You-" Dick sighed as the information caught up to his sleep-deprived brain. He ran a hand over his face. Now Damian was sick. Goodbye to sleep for the night. "Okay. Why don't you go sit down in the living area while I'll go clean it up? I'll be out there in a little bit."

Damian blinked owlishly, obviously out of it. "Yes."

The kid turned robotically and walked stiffly out of Dick's doorway, towards the living area. Dick groaned and pushed himself out of bed, preparing himself for the worst.

He walked down the short distance to Damian's room and pushed the half-open door fully open. Dick scrunched his nose at the heavy scent of sick in the air. Damian's sheets and blankets were balled up on his bed as if he'd been wanting to take care of it himself but then hadn't known what to do next.

Dick carefully grabbed the bundle and quickly left the room, leaving the door open behind him to air out. The next stop was the laundry room.

Dick managed to get Damian's bedding in the wash and quickly headed out into the living area to check up on him. Dick rounded the corner to find Damian sitting uncomfortably rigid on the edge of the couch. His back was ramrod straight and he was staring forward with blank bleary eyes. Despite his formal and almost normal posture, Damian was not well. His skin was two shades lighter than normal, beads of perspiration were visible on his face, and Dick could see his body shaking slightly through his facade.

“I got it cleaned up.” Dick announced, coming into the room and approaching Damian. “You still feeling bad?”

Damian nodded blandly, his facial expression not changing.

“Okay, um…” Dick trailed off, not knowing what to do with this newly quiet Damian. Dick had become so used to putting up his guard around the kid it was weird not having to need it for once. Damian was so out of it. Okay.  _ What would Alfred do? _

There was no way he was going to wake Alfred for this. This was easy. He could take care of this. Dick cleared his throat. “You want to take a bath or something, Damian? It might make you feel better.”

This time the answer came as a silent shake of the head. 

“Okay then,” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you lie down at least? I can get some blankets and bring them back out here for you.”

Damian followed the suggestion robotically, laying down on his side in the most uncomfortable looking way as possible. He continued to stare off into space.

What was  _ with _ the kid? Dick gave him a once over, vaguely wondering if something else was wrong and chalked it up to maybe it had to do with patrol earlier that night. Even after an antidote, the fear toxin's effects could linger a little longer.

"Alright," Dick said. He nodded to himself, trying to ignore the discomfort of the situation. “I’ll get some blankets. Try to relax, okay?”

Damian didn’t answer. Dick backed out of the room, heading down the hall for the closet with blankets. He grabbed a few, mostly old but soft blankets, and started walking back towards the living area. He made a quick pit stop in the bathroom first, grabbing some medicine for Damian and a bucket from under the sink. Dick wasn’t going to take any chances of having the kid puke on the furniture too.

He came back to the room to find Damian in the same uncomfortable position he had left the kid in. He tossed the blankets over Damian from the back. The only acknowledgment that Damian gave that he had done so was a quick jolt through the kid’s body. Dick walked around the couch to face Damian fully and crouched down to get face to face with him. He set the bucket down next to the couch and began unscrewing the cap to the medicine. Damian eyed him warily as he poured the pink liquid medicine into the cup that came with it. 

Dick handed the cup for Damian to take. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Damian was silent but eventually reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine. He downed it with one swallow and laid his head back down against the couch pillow he was using. 

Dick raised a hand and pressed it to Damian’s forehead. Damian grunted in protest but didn’t pull back. His forehead was sweaty but Dick felt no fever present. That was good at least. 

Dick pushed himself up and grabbed the remote off the coffee table in front of the couch. He turned on the television, turning down the volume so it was just loud enough to hear. “You want to watch anything Damian?”

Damian just sent Dick a weak glare and huffed softly. Dick watched as he subconsciously pulled the blankets tighter around himself. Dick quickly turned it to a documentary on savannah animal life. Animal documentaries seemed to be the only thing the kid was mildly interested in watching. Dick didn’t find them extremely exciting but he didn’t need that right now. All he wanted was sleep. 

Dick was tempted just to leave Damian on the couch until morning. The kid was independent enough to take care of a little stomach bug, Dick knew that. One look at Damian’s shivering pale form made Dick feel guilty though. What kid would want to be alone when they were sick? Even one like Damian.

Dick sighed and stepped forward to the couch. “Alright Damian, scoot over. Make some room.”

Damian seemed somewhat shocked at the request. He eyed Dick suspiciously. “Why?”

The first word since Dick had gotten him to lie down. “If I'm going to watch this with you, I need a place to sit.”

Instead of complaining and grumbling about being treated like a child like Dick anticipated, Damian merely shifted over a little, making room by his head for Dick to sit down. Dick took a seat, feeling fairly uncomfortable.  _ What was he supposed to do now? _

Damian’s thick black hair brushed against Dick’s leg. His hair was soft but as unruly as usual, even more so with all that had happened that night. Tufts of it stuck up at weird angles and it would have made Dick laugh if he wasn’t so exhausted and Damian didn’t look so sick. 

Dick softly ran a hand through Damian’s hair, pushing down all the weird angles it was taking. Instead of protesting Damian shuddered under his touch and let out a soft gasp. Dick almost pulled back, scared he had hurt him in some way before Damian all but melted. His body went slack finally, his head and limbs resting without tension against the couch. Dick continued the motion, letting his eyes wander to the show on the television.

They stayed like that for a while, Damian’s breaths growing deeper and heavier with sleepiness, and Dick’s own eyes drooped intermittently with exhaustion. Eventually, it seemed Damian nodded off and Dick was struggling not to do the same when he heard footsteps shuffling down the hall behind him. 

“Master Dick?” 

“Alfred?” Dick asked as the light to the room was turned on. Damian shifted slightly beside him but that was his only reaction to the disturbance. “Why are you up?”

Alfred walked fully into the room, coming towards the couch. “I should ask you the same. Is Master Damian around? His room was empty.” 

“He’s right here Alfred,” Dick said. Alfred crossed the room and looked over the top of the couch at the small boy shaking in his sleep.

“Oh, dear,” Alfred said, lowering his voice. “Something’s wrong, I presume?”

“Stomach bug,” Dick told him. “He got sick in bed. He woke me up.”

“How eventful this night has been,” Alfred said blandly. “Would you like me to get you anything Master Dick? I was going to make myself a cup of tea to help me sleep, would you want anything?”

“No Alfred. I’m good. Thank you,” Dick told him.

“As you wish,” Alfred told him with a formal nod. “I’ll make sure to make something bland for breakfast if Master Damian is willing to eat tomorrow.”

“That sounds good Alfred,” Dick said. He could always count on Alfred being one step ahead. He had been more than appreciated in keeping Damian reigned in the last few months.

Alfred left for the kitchen and Dick listened quietly to the sounds of Alfred busying himself. Damian slept on, mouth hanging open with little snores as he slept. Dick relaxed back into the couch, resting a hand on Damian’s shoulder. He glued his eyes to the television, trying to keep himself awake.

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep was Alfred wishing goodnight and the light to the living area flicking off.

\-----

Instead of light, it was heat and movement that woke him up again. 

Dick came to slowly, absently wondering why it had gotten so hot in his room before he realized, no, he wasn’t in his room. He was sitting on the couch because Damian-

Damian.

Dick’s eyes shot open.  _ He was supposed to be watching Damian! _

The kid was pressed into his side far more than he had been when he had fallen asleep. Sometime during the night, the pillow he had been using had fallen to the floor and Damian had replaced it with Dick’s thigh. He was curled in a tight ball and had the blankets pulled around himself haphazardly. What set off warning bells in Dick’s head was the violent shudders that were shaking Damian’s body in waves. 

“Damian?” Dick asked, wondering if the kid was even asleep. How could he, with how much he was shivering?

Dick didn’t get an answer. He could feel an uncomfortable heat pooling where Damian’s head was making contact with his leg. Dick reached out with a hand and rested it on Damian’s forehead already knowing what was wrong.

The kid was  _ roasting. _

The fire of fever met Dick’s hand now, even though a few hours ago Damian had felt normal. Did stomach bugs cause fevers that high?

Dick moved his hand to Damian’s shoulder and shook him roughly. “Damian. Damian, wake up.”

A low groan came from Damian and Dick watched in the low lighting of the room as Damian’s eyes peeled open sluggishly. Dick stopped shaking him. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

Damian didn’t answer. Instead, as soon as he seemed to gain seminormal consciousness, he went rigid as a board and his breathing quickened, sounding airy and panicked. Dick felt his chest tighten. “It’s okay Damian. You’re just running a fever. You’re okay.”

It didn’t seem to do anything to calm him down. Dick felt lost and panic was on the verge of making itself known based on the anxiety rippling through his veins. He took a deep breath. He needed to know how high Damian’s fever was.

Dick calmly maneuvered himself off the couch, replacing his leg with the pillow for Damian once again. Dick took one last glance at Damian’s small and huddled form before running off towards the bathroom. He needed to find the thermometer.

He dug through the bathroom cabinet, pulling out bottles of various medicines along the way, some of them falling off of the counter as he searched for the thermometer. He found the device tucked away in the corner. He grabbed it and sprinted back out to the living area, flicking the light on along the way before rounding the couch again. 

Damian looked so much worse with the full light. His light brown skin tone seemed almost translucent and he shook every few seconds with violent shivers. His eyes rolled in their sockets, making it clear he was struggling to stay conscious and lucid. A dusted pink had settled on his checks from the fever. Damian didn’t seem to be sweating anymore. 

Dick fell to his knees beside Damian. With shaking hands he uncapped the thermometer and slipped it into his mouth. Damian clenched his jaw around it, biting down hard enough that Dick was scared it would crack. 

Dick lifted his hand to Damian’s forehead again, trying to gauge the kid’s temperature again. He was so hot.  _ What the hell was going on? _

After a short minute of silence, the thermometer started beeping and Dick took it from Damian’s mouth. He looked down at the numbers and fear drummed on his heart.

_ 103.4. _

Dick’s mouth went dry at the number. He knew a stomach bug shouldn’t cause a fever so high. What else could be causing Damian to be so sick? He must have missed some-

“Grayson.”

Dick’s eyes snapped up to Damian. He didn’t think Damian was lucid enough to talk.

Damian’s eyes were dim but focused intently on Dick. His mouth quivered slightly in a frown and he clenched a fistful of the blanket in his hand, making his knuckles go white. Damian let out a shaky breath and moisture pooled in his eyes. “I vomited in my bed.”

“Y-yeah.” Dick tried to keep his voice from shaking. He raised a hand and ran it through Damian’s hair. “I know. You already told me. I got it cleaned up…”

Slowly, tears in single file lines dribbled from Damian’s eyes, making tracks down his cheeks. Damian didn’t even seem aware it was happening. Dick was slack-jawed for a moment, taken aback by the open display of emotion. 

He couldn’t remember ever seeing Damian cry.

Dick swallowed thickly and brushed his hand across Damian’s cheek, wiping the tears away. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s fixed. Don’t worry.”

Damian’s tears slowed and his eyes went distant. He went limp for a few seconds before his eyes rolled.

"Hey," Dick shook Damian's shoulder, confused and worried about Damian's waning consciousness. "Look at me, Damian. You still with me?"

Damian's eyes just rolled again and he didn't give any indication he had heard Dick. A few still moments passed and then all of a sudden Damian's body tensed and he went completely rigid. An almost choked sound came from him.

Dick’s breath left him and all he could hear was blood running in his ears. Everything screamed in him something was wrong, something bad was going to happen. "Damian?"

Time stood still briefly, all motion seeming to hold its breath. Then time exploded again, moving fast like it was trying to catch up to the lag. In a few seconds, Damian had gone from being rigid to shaking violently, nothing like he had been before. Small distressed sounds came from him. He gave no indication he was aware of what was happening around him.

This was different. This was dangerous. Dick knew what a seizure looked like.

Dick yelled for Alfred as he shoved the coffee table back and quickly maneuvered Damian to the floor. He tilted the boy onto his side and kept a hand on Damian's shoulder as he seized.

Alfred came running into the living room, eyes flashing wildly for any potential threat. "Master Dick! What's happening?"

"Damian-" Dick choked. He couldn't get the words out.

Alfred took in the situation without Dick explaining. He caught the eye of Damian and came up to Dick's side with a sudden calm and steady presence. "After he stops we need to bring him down to the bunker. More than likely it’s the fever that caused the seizure but what’s causing this illness is a question we need to answer. I have reason to suspect this may have to do with your escapades tonight."

Dick was beginning to think that too. Fear gas wasn’t exactly known to cause reactions like Damian’s, but playing with chemicals was always a dangerous business. Even after giving Damian the antidote, he had been acting a little off. Perhaps something went wrong. Dick nodded, trying to stay calm. "Okay."

All they could do was wait for Damian to stop. After an excruciating minute, Damian's body relaxed and his eyes wandered. Dick let his hand brush Damian's shoulder. "Damian? Are you with me?"

Damian's eyes struggled to focus on Dick. He was still burning up and he now seemed more exhausted than ever. Dick continued, not knowing if Damian was aware enough of what was happening. "You had a seizure. We're going to take you down to the bunker. I’m going to pick you up."

Alfred was already at the elevator. “Hurry Master Dick. We need to determine what’s wrong with the boy. He may need to go to the hospital if we cannot treat it.”

Dick bundled Damian in his arms, sending up a small prayer that he wouldn’t start another fit in the elevator on the way down. Damian was limp and light, not fighting Dick at all in having to be carried. He didn’t even react to being picked up. Dick whispered soothing words anyway and he wasn’t sure if he was reassuring Damian or himself. “I got you. We’ll take care of you.”

The trip down felt like hours and so did setting up a bed for Damian. Dick patiently helped Alfred set up the heart monitor and an IV for Damian before they started pulling blood samples. The first thing they were running was to see if the fear toxin had made it out of Damian’s system or was at least fading. If the antidote had worked the fear toxin would be almost untraceable in Damian's blood. If not, they were also testing Damian’s white blood cell count to see if he had an infection.  _ Neither of the choices sounded great. _

“All we can do now is wait, Master Dick,” Alfred said, resting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick broke his eyes away from where the pending results for Damian’s blood tests would show on the computer. “It shouldn’t be long.”

Dick nodded, eyes drifting towards the small body across the room. Damian’s eyes were open and moving but were unseeing. He wasn’t reacting to anything they were doing. He didn’t even seem to know they were there anymore.  _ One of the signs he could still be under the effects of the fear toxin. _

The fever was an outlier. There was a possibility Damian was sick with something dangerous as well. As far a Dick knew, no one had ever experienced a high fever while under the influence of fear toxin. 

Dick came to Damian’s bedside, pulling up one of the stiff plastic chairs by the beds. He grasped Damian’s hand with the IV in it, suddenly in awe of how small it was compared to his. He traced his fingers over the smooth lines in Damian’s palm, a sudden feeling of loss overcoming him as his fingers reached the many built up calluses that spoke of years of training. “Was it a mistake, Alfred?”

Alfred turned from the screen himself, drifting over to the bed as well. He seemed confused. “Was what a mistake, Master Dick?”

Dick squeezed Damian’s hand, eyes not lifting to meet the butler’s. Instead, he stared into Damian’s wide, unseeing green eyes. The green eyes of Ra’s al Ghul and Talia. He swallowed, holding back the desire to break his empty stare down with Damian. “Damian. Keeping him.”

Dick could feel Alfred stiffen next to him without even looking. There was a sharp intake of breath, filled with anger. “Master Dick!”

“I mean it,” Dick said, emotion raising his voice. “Everything’s gone downhill since I decided to let him become Robin. It was already hard that Bruce... and then Tim left. I forced Tim out by doing it, and Damian’s so  _ hard _ to control. Maybe I should have sent him to his mother or-, or somewhere else! Anywhere else!”

“Master Damian may be rather prickly at times but all those excuses are far from reasonable enough to send him away.“ Alfred said, brow furrowed with anger. “The boy’s changed so much al-”

“ _ Everything’s _ changed, Alfred. I didn’t want that.” Dick said. “I didn’t want-”

_ Damian. _

The name stopped in his throat. He couldn't get it out. He couldn’t say that about Bruce’s son, about his brother. 

Silence overcame the bunker. Alfred knew what he was going to say. Still, the old butler stayed calm. Dick waited for a response, hanging his head and watching Alfred warily. Alfred folded his hands behind his back, standing stiff and tall with a severe look in his eyes. They bore down on Dick, seeing everything and weighing so much, rightfully so with what Dick had been about to say. 

"I would remind you," Alfred said, his voice cold and clipped. “that is something you two have in common.”

All that was left was the ragged breathing of Damian after Alfred’s words. Dick felt a chill go down his spine. He swallowed, unsure of what to say.

Before anything could be said, the computer beeped from across the room. They both glanced over to the computer where a message box had appeared concerning the test results. 

Dick jumped out of his seat and ran ahead of Alfred as they both came to the computer. Dick began reading the results, eyes widening. Alfred was deathly quiet.

“His white blood cell count is normal,” Dick said, skimming over the results once more. He wasn’t sick with a virus or bacteria. “Alfred-”

“The fear toxin is still present.” Alfred finished for him. “We need to start on a different antidote. The last dose failed for some reason.”

It would explain Damian’s odd behavior all night. Dick already knew Damian’s reaction to fear toxin presented itself differently. Damian tended to shut down and almost become catatonic in response to fear toxin rather than outwardly panicked. Dick had a feeling it had to do with his league training. It had been fairly obvious that Damian had never been taught how to deal with his own emotions in other ways besides anger or shutting down. If he couldn’t fight it he would freeze. Never run, never panic.

Dick didn’t ask any questions. He and Alfred got to work, breaking down the structure of the toxin and trying to create a different antidote for it. It took a long hour for them to finally break through but Dick finally collapsed into a chair with relief as Alfred pumped in the antidote through Damian’s IV.

“His fever should be down in a few hours,” Alfred said. “More than likely it developed due to the inadequate formula we had. It was strong enough to react to the toxin but not enough to reverse its effects completely. Master Damian’s body must have perceived it as a threat.”

“He’ll be okay Alfred?” Dick asked. He gripped Damian’s hand again, looking over Damian’s face. Damian’s eyes were finally closed in sleep.

“I suggest a few days off from patrol and training, but yes,” Alfred said. “I hope you are grateful he woke you. If he hadn’t I fear there would have been some more severe consequences to this.”

_ Damian had trusted him. _ That’s what Alfred was telling him. Damian had trusted Dick enough to seek him out when something was wrong. Dick looked down at Damian, taking in his young face and wondering when he had finally won his trust over.

He was so lost when it came to Damian most of the time. Alfred assured him he was doing wonderful with him but he felt like he was drowning most of the time. Up was down for the kid and trying to convince him otherwise was like pulling teeth, long and painful. Damian was obstinate and arrogant and altogether a brat, but most frustratingly, he had no fault in how he had gotten there. Dick couldn’t blame Damian’s outlook on life solely on how the kid was as a person. His upbringing played a bigger role in that and reversing it was possible but would take time. Dick sighed, feeling exhausted just thinking about the road ahead of them. It seemed to be never-ending. "What should I do Alfred?"

Alfred was quiet for a few seconds before he set a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Love him. Give him a home. Give him hope, as Master Bruce did for you."

_ Hope. _

That was the story of the rise of Nightwing more than the Justice narrative Batman originated from. Hope for a safer tomorrow, not only justice for the past.

Alfred cleared his throat. “I believe that I will head to bed if you are willing to stay with Master Damian. He should be observed at least until his fever lowers.”

Dick nodded. “You go ahead, Alfred. I’ll watch him.”

“I assume you will be taking the day off?” Alfred asked.

Dick knew he meant in more than one way. “Yeah. Maybe a few.”

“Good,” Alfred said. He began making his way to the elevator. “Good night then Master Dick. Or good morning would be more accurate I believe.”

With that, Alfred bid farewell and left Dick with Damian in the silence of the bunker. Dick glanced at the digital clock across the room. Alfred was right. It was almost five in the morning. Dick had barely slept all night. 

He ran a hand over his face. Just realizing he hadn’t slept seemed to make him even more exhausted. He wouldn’t fall asleep this time though. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Dick ran his hand through Damian’s sweat stiff hair and looked down at his face. He looked so young and calm, nothing like his usual demeanor. Ever since Dick had met Damian, the looming presence of anger and hardship had clouded the kid’s interactions and he put up a front of being older than he was. At times he had even convinced Dick of that lie. Now, with sleep tearing down Damian’s external barriers, Dick could see Damian clearly for his true self. He was only a hurt child. He was only a  _ baby. _

_ “-that is something you two have in common.” _

Alfred had been right. Damian probably hadn’t wanted to come to Gotham of his own choice. He hadn’t wanted to live with his father in a house that was strange to him. He hadn’t wanted Dick to take the role of not only Batman but the caregiver when Bruce passed. If one thing was certain, Damian never could choose what he wanted when it came to those major decisions in his life. Just as much as Dick hadn’t wanted his parents to die, or Bruce to die. Unlike those things though, Dick had chosen Damian, something he hadn’t wanted. Dick hadn’t wanted him but chose him anyway and Damian stayed.

_ Damian hadn’t wanted him either. _ But he had wanted Bruce, despite the severe lack of knowledge he had of his father. Damian had spent so little time with what he wanted before it was snatched away from him. A father he deserved was taken from him without choice.

Dick’s hand drifted to Damian’s again and he squeezed it tight. “I’m so sorry kiddo. I miss him so much and I forget you barely got to meet him."

The pain of Bruce’s death would eventually fade. Dick knew. It had been the same with his parents. The pain faded and the love stayed. The good and bad days would come, but there would always be hope. Hope that the good would stay and hope that the good would come again. Hope was left by pain to lead them until the hole was filled and mended.

Dick’s eyes stung and his vision blurred as he leaned forward and pulled Damian to his chest, lifting the boy into his arms to cradle him as tightly as he dared like he probably never was as a baby. Dick rocked them both back and forth, lifting his head to press his lips to Damian’s temple. Dick’s cheeks were wet with tears and he whispered over and over for Damian three words that hadn’t crossed his lips until then. 

“I love you.” Dick smiled, even as his tears dripped down onto Damian’s pajamas in little, wet circles. “I love you so much, Dami. We’ll figure this out together. Batman and Robin. The two of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time posting on Archive of Our Own. I used to write fanfic a long time ago but on a different site. I'm hoping that this posts correctly. This work is not beta read but I hope I can get a beta reader as I never had one before and plan on writing more.
> 
> For more information on this fic: This will be part one of a multi-story series that focuses on the relationships of the batfam. It borrows pieces from canon and fanon but I've kind of made my own "universe." I have a major multi-chapter story in the works but I'll have several one-shots posted before I get that done. So far, the multi-chapter story is almost 20,000 words long and only chapter one and two are completed, if that says anything about how long it will be.


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